The Pull
by BabyCharmander
Summary: One by one, you see them leave. They feel the pull, and eventually, you will, too.


Hiya folks! BabyCharmander here with... an _Undertale_ fanfic! Time for something new, I guess. For those unfamiliar with my work, this is not my usual style; this is a bit experimental. Anyway, thanks to Jaywings, Lightning, Audaciousanonj, Gonturan, and my sister for beta-reading this. (Yes, that was a lot of beta-readers.)

On with the fic!

* * *

It doesn't surprise you how little it hurts, because you're not paying attention to that right now.

Yes, there was the impact of the punch and the quick _snap_ of the vertebrae, but the shock has dulled the pain. Besides, you have more important things to focus on—important things to say—and it's hard to focus through the dizzying feeling of your head suddenly falling to the level of your ribcage.

Said ribcage turns to nothing, and there's the brief feeling of a freefall followed by the soft impact of hitting the ground—you feel far lighter than you should, but that still doesn't matter. You have to _tell_ them. It's important. You feel dizzy and light and wrong in all sorts of ways so you're not sure if you're quite getting the words out right, but still you try. It's important.

They have to know.

But you don't see their reaction before the world fades around you, white as the snow you were lying in.

You're not alone.

The first thing you're aware of is a soul near to yours. It's not one you recognize, but it's warm, and friendly, and protective, and you like it immediately.

It—she—tells you to follow her, so you do. You're not really sure how you're following her, or how either of you are moving, but you don't question it.

You ask her where she's taking you.

Away, she says.

It suddenly occurs to you that she feels sad. You can't see her facial expression and you can't read her body language, but you know. You can _feel_ it.

Immediately you reassure her that you are perfectly fine—that you're not hurt now, and that you encouraged the human to do the right thing, and that you have high hopes for them. Everything is going to be okay now, even though things went wrong before.

Still she does not answer, and her sorrow grows.

You grow silent, and move close to her. She appreciates the gesture.

Time feels strange here, wherever "here" is, and you're not sure how long it is before you finally sense her speaking again. She says that you won't have to worry about the human hurting you anymore.

You assure her that you are not worried. You are quite certain that they will do the right thing, and listen to you! They can change, just as anybody can!

You feel her embrace. Though she is still sad, you know she is hopeful, too.

After taking a moment, she lets go, and resumes moving. You follow her.

Once again, you ask where she's taking you.

Here, she replies.

Just as you are about to ask again, you are suddenly aware of the _things_ around you. No, not things.

People.

Over there, you can sense the dogs rushing around, chasing each other, whooping with joy over the fact that they are no longer held back by poor vision. And just out there, two more dogs are closer than they ever were before, reunited in eternity. A little farther off, one soul rests peacefully, knowing he can no longer be bothered, and another half-heartedly laments that his lovely headwear can no longer be seen.

At first, you are overcome with joy, and you call out their names. All at once they are aware of your presence, and react with a similar joy, before the feeling falls.

You're not sure why. Aren't they happy to see you again? Is something wrong?

The one who brought you here is still silent, but you can tell she was expecting this reaction. You turn your focus to her, to ask her why anyone would be upset at seeing each other again.

Before the thought can leave you, you're suddenly aware of another presence—two, in fact, huddling close together. An aura of sadness, confusion, and hurt radiates around them.

That is something you simply cannot allow.

You approach them to embrace them, but they back away.

Where is Mom, one of them wonders. He misses her, but she's not here. She's left him out in the cold.

The other laments to his friend that he's sorry he ran away from home. He just wanted to find his friend, but not like this.

The remembrance of what has happened creeps over you like a fog. You focus on the two souls before you—children.

You turn to the others around you—children, adults, those getting ready to begin a new life.

It was torn from them.

The sorrow threatens to overtake you, just as it has overtaken the others, but you will not allow it. It will be fine, you assure them. The human will change.

The others do not answer you.

They _will_ , you insist. You _told_ the human they can do better.

The mood around you shifts from sorrow to anger, and you back away. The first soul—the one that brought you—is at your side again, and you stay with her, waiting for things to calm. The others shift their attention away from you, but you stay put, for now.

Eventually you say to her, quietly, that you only wished to encourage the others.

Their wounds are too fresh, she replies.

It could be seconds or hours, but time eventually passes, and you suddenly notice that one of the souls here has disappeared. Before you can ask what happened to it, it returns with another in tow.

One by one they are drawn away, only to return, bringing someone else to the fold.

You ask what is happening.

Gently she replies, they are responding to the pull.

For a while you simply watch as souls return with more souls. Some of the new ones are reacting better to their situation than others, but some are not.

One enters with a great, heavy, suffocating sense of mourning. She does not speak, and quickly moves away from the soul that had brought her in, hiding as far away from the others as she can. Yet even from here, they can sense her sorrow.

For reasons you can't fully comprehend, it fills you with anger. You turn to the soul that brought her in, making sure he can full well sense how you feel. You demand to know why you would take her here, if it upsets her so much.

But he is unfazed by your anger, and replies casually that he had to get her. He didn't have a choice in the matter. None of them did.

You realize what the reason for that is.

But… you _told_ them! You told them to do better! They didn't have to keep hurting people!

One of the new souls approaches you, saying that the human was filthy with dust, and will probably stay that way for a while.

But they _won't_ , you insist! They'll change! They still have a chance!

And yet the souls continue to leave, returning with more.

You feel alarmed, and turn to the first soul again, rushing to her, keeping close. You tell her that you have to leave here, too, like the others, but not to get anyone else. You need to visit the human again, and tell them that this isn't what they should be doing.

She tells you that you cannot go back.

You insist that you're not going to go back and stay—you'll come right back here, you will! You just need to talk to the human again. You were not feeling well when you last talked to them, so maybe you said things wrong and the human didn't understand you. You just need to tell them again. You need to tell them, and this will stop, and everything will be okay again, even if it's not entirely okay right now.

She does not reply.

You don't care. You tell her that you're very happy to see the people that had gone before, but you don't want to see any more of them now, not like this. In fact, you will be very happy if no-one else comes up here. The Underground is still a nice place! And with the human there, they can all get to the surface soon! You just need to set the human on the right path, that's all! It's just one small thing, and it will fix everything, and everything will be okay.

She does not reply.

You can't stand being still. You have to move, so you do. You move away from her, away from the others, as fast as you can, if speed or time or any of it matters now. You saw the others leave, and you try to depart the same way. You'll be back, too, just like they were. It won't take long. You just have to get back there, just for a moment, so you continue to move.

But you're not sure how far you've traveled—it's so hard to tell these things here—so you turn to get a sense of where everyone else is now.

They are still close by.

Panicked, you turn around again, and try to rush away, right, left, up, down, forward, forward, _forward_ , yet you can still sense the souls behind you, never growing farther away, no matter how far you move.

She approaches you again, and embraces you.

You stop moving.

You feel lost, directionless, faced with a puzzle without a solution.

Useless.

But she assures you that you are not useless, and keeps you close. You don't know what to do anymore, so you let her.

Until you feel the pull.

It's the most natural thing in the world, and you follow it without question. You feel her let go and move aside as you leave. It's not until you realize you've been moving for some time that you turn around.

They are gone.

For a split second you feel lost and afraid, but the pull urges you onward.

Onward, onward, onward. It feels dragged out, but you're not sure why. You're not even sure where it's taking you until you're suddenly there. "There" doesn't look any different from anything else, with one exception.

As soon as the other soul senses you, she shouts out your name and wraps you in a familiar, bone-crushing embrace. She goes on about how she missed you, and how she was so sad and angry when you didn't respond to her calls.

At first you feel the joy of seeing her again, but it's quickly drowned out by remembrance.

She remembers, too, and the joy fades. Sorrow threatens to cling to her, but she shakes it off with a sense of duty.

She asks you what she's supposed to do.

Follow, you reply.

She asks you where.

You don't know how to describe it, so all you can say is, Away.

And so you lead her, sentry leading captain, to the place you were at before. All at once you sense her overcome with so many emotions that you're not entirely sure what she's feeling, and neither is she. But she bursts away from you and to the dogs, calling out their names as they surround her in the affectionate embrace only a dog can give.

You watch this take place, still not sure what to feel.

While your friend is busy, the first soul approaches you, but remains quiet. You are learning to appreciate her silence.

As she stays with you, you study the other souls, starting to draw connections. You remember the one who came to retrieve the sad girl—you once saw him trying to talk to her. And the one who retrieved _him_ often hung around him, insisting that he keep proper hygiene. You look to the others who went before you, and can guess who retrieved whom.

But that only makes one thing all the more confusing.

You turn to the first soul, and ask who she is.

Somehow, you sense a smile as she replies that she was a friend of your brother's.

Your brother's.

 _Your brother._

She continues to tell you that your brother told her so much about you, but you can't hear her anymore. All you can think of is him.

He's still there. You left him behind. You left him to that human that you couldn't convince to pursue the right path. To the human that is causing more souls to come here at a rapid rate.

You left him alone.

Before you realize what's happening, it drowns you.

It surrounds you and covers you, thick like tar and even more impenetrable. It's heavy and overwhelming and you can't stand it, you can't breathe, you can't think of anything other than the fact that you are away from _him_ and you failed him and you can't go back to fix things and nothing is okay anymore and you just want your brother but you want him to be _safe_ , you hate being away from him but you don't want him _here_ but you _do_ want him here but you wouldn't be here in the first place if you hadn't failed but you didn't mean to fail you really honestly tried it's not fair it's not _fair_

but in the distance, you can sense them calling, telling you that it's not your fault, insisting that you did your job as a sentry, calling you her friend. Assuring you that you did nothing wrong, affirming that you were strong, calling you her child.

By slow, steady degrees the thick flood fades away, though part of it still sticks to you, clings to you, making you feel heavy. But beyond it, you can feel their close embrace, and they do not let you go.

Eventually you find it in you to communicate again.

You tell them that you miss him.

They know.

You tell them that you want to see him again, but at the same time, you don't want him here.

They know.

You tell them that it hurts.

They embrace you even closer.

And once again you find yourself sitting in silence, merely letting things be. You don't know what else to do anymore.

Until you feel the pull.

They let go, and you move, letting it drag you onward.

You know how it is, now. You've pieced together the puzzle. All that's left to do is to let it take its course.

You're drawn on, on, on, and you know why this time. He's dragging it out, somehow, like your friend did. You probably had too, a little.

You want to tell him that it's okay, that he doesn't have to be afraid. That everyone's here. That he doesn't have to fight anymore. That he's not going to be tired any longer.

You hear his voice.

Suddenly you know how your friend was feeling, when you first brought her away.

He's asking you a question, but that's not what he's really saying. It's harder to hide things in this place. You don't mind.

It takes him a moment, but finally

he sees you.

And you take him away.


End file.
